The Family Jewels
by sg2009
Summary: Bobby's not sure what to do with the cursed idjits. Spoilers possible through season 5. There's some crack and then a little plot and then some schmoop. And the overuse of the phrase idjits.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me._

Bobby heard the Impala drive up. He glanced outside seeing the evening rays shining off the black paint job. Sam and Dean hadn't called first which meant they were either beat to hell or possessed. He diluted two sodas with holy water – those two idgits were drinking way too much beer – and wheeled his chair towards the front door.

He gripped his silver knife, straightened his cap, and turned the handle – tensing further when he found two women standing on the other side. One of 'em was little and cute with big, green eyes and freckles. The other one was tall. Really tall. And a looker, too. Wavy brown hair and a curvy figure that wasn't quite hidden by her layers of clothes. Bobby tightened his grip on the weapon. He sure as hell didn't trust pretty young things that showed up on his doorstep – especially when they were driving his boys' car.

"Can I help you?" He gruffed out, watching his breath fog in the cold February air.

"I sure as hell hope so." The shorter one bit out in a raspy voice. "Cause I'm going to kill the freakin' Amazon next to me if you can't."

"Dean…" The taller one warned, pulling her jacket tighter around her body. "Calm down, man."

"Calm down?" The little one's eyes opened wide. She shivered, but Bobby couldn't tell if she was cold or livid, and clenched her fist like she was going to hit something. "I woke up today…" She breathed in and out rapidly, a look of pure panic painting her pretty face. "And Mister Happy and the band were gone!" She said, glancing down at her crotch. "Gone." She repeated solemnly and caught Bobby's eyes. She turned back to the other one. "So I sure as hell am not calming down, Sam."

Bobby took a closer look at them. He shook his head, peering at one than the other. "Dean?" He said, but he already knew he was right. What had the two numbskulls done this time? Bobby took a deep breath. "Boys?" They nodded. Not really women then. "What the hell?"

"Yeah." Dean fidgeted. "Well. Yesterday we were invisible…which is nowhere near as fun as it sounds." Dean pointed down again. "But, at least, all the junk was where the junk should be." He paused. "Even if I couldn't see it."

"So…" Sam held up a delicate looking wrist. "Um…" He said, jingling a heavy pewter bracelet. "We… uh…think these are cursed, Bobby." Dean rolled his pretty eyes and held up his small wrist, too. He was wearing an identical bracelet.

"Ya think? For crying out loud." Bobby shook his head and swore. He wheeled backwards, shuffling them inside into the warmth of the house. He led them to the oak table in the living room and handed them the sodas. "Drink."

Sam drank it right away. Dean frowned at it.

"I could use something a little stronger here, Bobby." He said, but he took a sip before clanking it down on the table. "Not possessed. Now how 'bout that beer."

Bobby ignored him. "Tell me what happened."

Sam's lips twitched down. "Not much to tell, Bobby. We got these bracelets stuck on our wrists. Then yesterday we woke up…um…invisible. And today we woke up visible again, but…um…" Sam pushed his hair out of his delicate face. "Well…like this. And we decided we needed help."

"How'd you get the bracelets stuck on your wrist to begin with?" Bobby asked Dean. Dean didn't answer. His eyes were cast down towards his shirt.

"Dude." Sam slapped the table. "Stop staring at your breasts and pay attention."

"I am paying attention." Dean snapped up and glared at Sam. "We were working a job in the attic of this old house. And Samantha here finds a box full of jewelry and starts trying stuff on…"

"I was investigating the contents. I was not 'trying stuff on', Dean."

"Right. I saw you put on that tiara." Dean said accusingly. He ignored Sam's indignation and continued. "So Einstein here slips on the stupid bracelet..." He held his dainty hands up in annoyance. "And, boom, I look down and its twin is shackled to my wrist. They won't come off and if we move more than four feet apart, we're snapped back together."

Bobby leaned his elbows on the table and let the information simmer. "What were you investigating?"

"The house has a history of accidents. Several people bled to death after inexplicably losing limbs." Sam said, pushing his hair behind his ears. "We thought there might be an orge on the property."

Bobby laughed. "An orge?" He laughed more. Damn. Sometimes Sam was hilarious.

"There's a lot of lore on orges." Sam crossed his arms and his face fell into a sweet pout.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Okay, let's get one thing straight. There ain't no such thing as ogres." Bobby leaned back in his chair. "What did you find in the house?"

Dean jingled his bracelet again. "Cursed bracelets."

"Well, you both still got arms." Bobby turned to Sam. "Anything else?"

"No." Sam sighed; a long, loud sigh. "The place was clean, Bobby."

"You boys certain?"

"Look, Bobby. We went back and spent all day yesterday, while we were _invisible_, searching every inch of that damn house. There's nothing there. And our arms are still connected to our bodies."

"For now." Bobby considered it. "Gotta be related to the deaths, though. I'll make some calls. See what I can find out."

"Thanks." Dean stood up, shifting back and forth on his feet. His cute face twisted back to barely contained panic. "I need to know if Little Dean will be back in the morning or what? Just...the boobs are awesome and all, but I gotta have the boys back."

Sam groaned. "He's been complaining nonstop since this morning." He turned to glower at his brother. "You know, Little Sam is gone, too. I'm not carrying on like a crazy person."

"Yeah. Well." Dean smirked. "Little Sam isn't as much to miss."

"Really. You want to compare? Fine, when we're back to normal…"

"Boys!" Bobby pulled off his cap. It always came down to a pissing match with these two. "Enough. We need to figure this out, and figure it out soon. Curses aren't things to mess around with. But if its different today than yesterday. Odds are it will be different tomorrow."

"Hallelujah." Dean relaxed and settled back in his chair.

"Don't get too excited. Curses tend to get worse before they get better." Bobby wheeled away from the table. "Make a list of everyone you've come in contact with in the last week. And underline names of anyone who you saw at that damn house."

They exchanged a glance. Sam spoke up.

"We already did that in the car, Bobby. I just don't think any of these people are involved." Sam held out a crumpled piece of paper. He hesitated. "Uh…what should we do for now?"

"Stay put."

"Nah. I gotta a better idea." Dean stood up, easing a sly grin over his full lips. He planted his palms on the table. "I'm gonna go play some pool." He chuckled. "With this packaging, it'll be like taking candy from a bunch of clueless, overgrown babies. Might as well flaunt it while I got it."

Oh. For heavens sake. Bobby pounded his fist down. "Look, boy, tonight, you're staying in."

"Don't worry." Sam said. "I'll go with him. We are getting low on cash."

Bobby gave Sam a hard look. Really. Sam should know better. "Did this curse make you two stupid when it made you into women!" Bobby wheeled back over, staring them down. "You two aren't going to hustle pool in your current state."

"Our current state?" Dean scrunched up his nose. "That's pretty sexist, Bobby." He waggled his eyebrows. "I bet I can hustle pool real good in my current state." He turned towards his brother. "What do you think, Sam?"

Sam stood up. "We'll be careful. I'll have his back."

"You sit your asses back down. You need cash?" He rolled over to his desk and opened the top drawer. "Here." He said, tossing them a wad of bills. "Take it."

"Bobby…" Sam picked up the money, lips pursing in confusion. "You've always, always been there for us, but you've never in your life given us cash."

Dean peered at him. "It's cause were chicks, isn't it? Dude…" He turned to Sam with a wide grin. "We're gonna make so much moola at the bar."

"I said no, boys. You want my help you're going to do what I say." Bobby said. Dean opened his mouth to speak. Bobby held up his hand to keep the boy from saying whatever fool thing he was going to say next. Bobby continued. "And it ain't because you're women. I know plenty of capable female hunters. Hell, Ellen and Jo ran a bar. It's because you're _cursed_." He rolled towards the back room to make some calls.

Sam looked down, contemplating the money, again. "Chauvinist." Bobby heard him mumble from the other room.

Bobby wiped his brow and swore. Maybe he was feeling a bit overprotective. But those girls were his boys and he didn't want them being ogled by drunken fools all night. Besides, they didn't know a damn thing about being women. He picked up the phone. They could just sit their asses down until they learned to behave like ladies or were back to normal.


	2. Chapter 2

The boys headed to bed around ten. Sam asked if they could bunk in one of the upstairs rooms. It seemed like a strange request, but since the two of them weren't exactly themselves, Bobby didn't think much about it. Maybe they needed extra privacy with their new female parts and all. Besides, he wanted someone to check on the second floor. He hadn't been up there since…well…he frowned down at his legs…since he'd gotten the chair. He settled in his back study with a book on Latin and Greek curses and dozed off with his head resting on the pages about an hour and a half later.

He woke at about three am to the sound of rumbling outside. He closed the book and wheeled over to the window. It was dark out, but as his brain started working, he realized he recognized the sound. The Chevy was driving up. And since it was supposed to be parked outside and Sam and Dean were supposed to be asleep upstairs, it pissed him the hell off. He rolled to in front of the doorway and waited, hoping the fools would sneak in the front door instead of climbing up and crawling through the second story window.

And, of course, they did come to the front door. They didn't even try to be that quiet. Probably figured they'd already done what they wanted and didn't care if they got caught now. They pushed the door slowly open and walked inside. Bobby flicked on the light.

"Waiting up?" Dean asked, sounding as amused as hell, and counting a stack of cash.

Bobby was still finding it difficult to get used to Dean's female form. And was he wearing a tank top? Bobby cleared his throat. "I told you cursed dumbasses to stay here until we figured this out." He turned to Sam. "I thought you at least had a lick of sense, Sam."

"You expected Sam to follow orders?" Dean said. "Really? I thought you knew the kid better than that, Bobby."

"Shut up, Dean." Sam stomped inside. He turned to Bobby and fluttered his eyelashes. "Look, Bobby. We weren't going to figure it out tonight. So Dean and I decided we'd just make the best of the situation. Not to mention…" He bit his lip. "I mean…we're adults here, Bobby. You can't ground us."

"Like hell I can't." Bobby crossed his arms and glared at the idjits. "We don't know anything about this curse and those bracelets. Going out was stupid."

"Maybe." Dean grinned. "But damn profitable." And good heavens, was he wearing make-up also? Bobby knew Sam and Dean worked costumes when they were working a case. It shouldn't surprise him that they'd go all out for a con-job as well. But…this…this might be too much for him to handle.

Dean stretched. "Man. I haven't had that much fun in ages." He said baring his mid-drift.

Bobby snapped his gaze to Dean's face. His left eye had an alarming dark smudge under it. "Geezus, Dean. What the hell happened?" He turned to peer at Sam. "Somebody give you two trouble?" Bobby might be in a chair, but he could handle a shotgun with the best of them if he needed to kick someone's ass.

Sam's pretty face scrunched up in confusion. "Not really." He said. "We made about twelve hundred dollars, though." He said patting the wrinkles out of his skirt.

"Are you wearing a skirt, Sam?" Bobby noticed it was ripped.

"Oh…uh." Sam blushed. "I thought we should look the part so we stopped at the twenty-four hour Walmart on the way."

Bobby sighed and spoke in the most understanding tone he could muster given the circumstances. "Sam. I know you boys can handle yourselves, but if something happened, you can tell me."

Dean leaned back against the wall, chuckling. "We're a-okay, Bobby." He said. "I mean, Sam had to go all Warrior Princess on some dude who grabbed his ass, but other than that, it was all free drinks and easy money."

Bobby felt his temper flaring back up. "Then what the hell happened to your eye?"

Dean blinked at him. "My eye?"

"It's black and blue. You're telling me that _didn't_ happen in a fight?"

This time Sam laughed, a tinkling, feminine laugh that was totally wrong. "Don't worry, Bobby. It's mascara."

"Mascara?" Bobby said.

"Yeah." Dean wiped at the mark. "The damn stuff got smudged." He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I shouldn't have rubbed my eyes. The make-up was Sam's idea."

"No." Sam said in a condescending tone. "I told you to get water-proof stuff like me."

"I'm sorry, Sam." Dean turned to glare at him. "I guess you're just a better girl than me."

"Screw you, man."

Bobby threw up his hands. "Go to bed." He said flicking off the lights and trying to avoid the Winchester fistfight that was looming in the front room. "We'll figure this out in the morning." And come morning, he was going to tear those boys a new one.

Bobby awoke in a worse mood than he'd been in when Sam and Dean had gotten home. He cracked some eggs in a pan and threw some bread in the oven. He intended to ream the fools for the stunt they pulled. Since they weren't really women, he'd decided he had no qualms about kicking their sorry asses – he frowned – assuming they were still women. The bacon sizzled in the fry pan. That'd get Dean downstairs.

Sure enough, not two minutes later, he heard two sets of feet echoing down the stairs.

"Slow down, Dean." Sam's high voice sounded angry.

"I smell bacon, Sam." Dean's voice had a high pitch to it too. "And I'm hungry."

"Well, I'm not. And I have to go wherever you go."

"Damn straight." Dean said.

Bobby heard a scuffle on the stairway. Then he heard whispering. He shook his head and waited. They walked into the kitchen a moment later.

Bobby took one look and cursed to high hell. Well, they weren't women anymore. They were kids. Even their clothes had shrunk. Both of 'em looked about seven or eight if he were guessing. Not that he was a great judge of that type of thing. They were cute kids, too - Dean with his freckles and Sam with his damn dimples. Well, being adorable wasn't going to save them from getting a verbal ass-kicking this time. He glared at them both.

Sam shifted on his feet. "Uncle Bobby?" He asked in a quiet voice. "Are you mad at us? Cause we can't get these things off." He held up his hand. Dean blinked up at him from beside his brother and grinned nervously. He held out his arm again also.

Bobby peered at them. He wasn't sure they knew what was happening and his anger disappeared. They really looked like scared kids right now.

"No. I'm not mad, Sam." He never could resist the little rugrats. "Sit down. Time for breakfast."

The both clamored up into chairs. Bobby put a plate in front of Sam and patted his head. When he wheeled back to the stove, he heard Dean snickering. He stopped as soon as Bobby turned back around. He set a plate in front of him, too. Sam broke out laughing.

"What is it?" It'd been awhile since he had to deal with either of them like this.

"Dude." Dean said. "You're far too easy. I thought it was bad when we were chicks. We're only like this on the outside." Dean stuffed a bunch of eggs in his mouth. "Not really kids, man."

"What?" Bobby said with exasperation creeping into his tone.

"Apparently." Sam smiled, flashing his cute, little dimples. "We conned the conman." The smug little bastard explained.

Bobby set his own plate in front of him. He should have known better. Never trust a Winchester. Not with anything other than your life or your family. He'd learned that quick enough dealing with their daddy. He turned to Sam. "And why did you do that?"

Sam sounded sincere when he spoke. "I'm sorry, Bobby." He said. His smooth face looked open and innocent. "I thought you were pissed at us for last night and…I… um…" He pushed his eggs around on his plate in swirls. "I thought you'd let it go if you thought we were really kids, not just in kid bodies." Sam looked at him guiltily and continued. "But on second thought, it was a really bad idea."

"Yeah." Bobby grabbed the coffee pot off the counter and poured himself a large cup. "It was."

"So…" Dean's big kid eyes caught his. "We should probably forget the last twenty-four hours and concentrate on breaking this curse, right?"

"Alright.' Bobby took a sip of the hot liquid and glowered at them. "Fine." He said. It occurred to him that they were getting exactly what they wanted. But he didn't really give a damn about that sort of thing. His main objective was getting those cursed bracelets off of them before one or both of the boys lost an arm. "I want to go back to the house and get a look at where you found those things." He took another swig of the coffee. "We'll leave after breakfast. And I'm driving." He added, fixing each of them with a pointed look.

"Sure thing, Bobby." Sam said. "I really am sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

Bobby sighed. He watched as Dean clamored up from his seat. He pulled his chair over to the cabinet and pulled out two more mugs. He shuffled back to the table dragging the chair back with him, put the mugs down hard on the wood, and poured he and Sam each a cup of coffee of their own. Bobby shook his head. It was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

"The house is in Bentonville, Wyoming; belongs to the Rankers Family." Sam told him. "Husband, wife, four kids, and three dogs."

"Let's go. Hurry it up. I want to talk to them today." He ushered them toward the van. "And we ain't stopping every ten minutes, so I hope you've both done what you needed to do."

He loaded the boys into the back seat, used the lift to put himself inside, and threw his cap onto the dash. The two of them bounced up and down on the seats like Guatemalan Jumping Beans. Bobby opened his mouth, considered telling them to sit the hell down, but thought better of it. What good would come from him screaming his lungs out? Probably amuse the little bastards. He watched them for a minute more, feeling old and tired. Then he promised himself he'd never allow anyone in the body of a seven year old to ever have coffee again, pulled onto the road, and ignored the raucous in the backseat for the next three hours until Sam's pleas for a restroom became adamant.

"Bobby, man, I really have to go."

Bobby glanced back. Sam had his short legs crossed and Dean looked pretty much the same. "You too, Dean?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Fine. We'll stop for lunch."

Bobby pulled into a roadside diner in Walkersville. The place had sticky tables, ripped seats, and waitresses who looked like they'd seen it all while never leaving the town. But the parking lot was full. Their server, Robin, with light hair and wrinkles around her eyes, took one look at Bobby's chair and got them a table immediately.

Dean picked up the menu. "I want a sundae." He told her.

Bobby snorted at that. "Tough. You ain't having sugar." No way. No how. Not after jumping around like a fool from the caffeine. He turned to the waitress. "Bring the boy a grilled cheese and milk."

"No." Dean's high voice sounded ridiculous. He smiled up at the girl, twisting at the bracelet around his wrist. "Darlin', I'll have a sundae."

She scrunched her face at the kid. Bobby got the impression she'd have turned Dean over her knee if he was her responsibility. Hell, maybe he should let her. Little shit would probably bite, though.

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up on the seat of his chair so he could see her better. "Um…I'll have a grilled cheese and milk. That actually sounds pretty good. Could you put lettuce and tomato on mine?"

It looked like it took all of the woman's control not to reach over and ruffle his hair. "Of course, sweetie."

Dean glared at him. "Kiss ass."

Robin frowned at the language, but held her tongue. She turned back towards Bobby. Her contempt at his parenting seemed to fade away when she caught another glimpse of his chair. "And for you, sir?" She asked nicely.

Bobby sure as hell didn't need pity from her. The more sad glances she aimed at him, the smaller her tip. He bit back a snarl and forced a smile. "Give me the special. And the strongest cup of coffee you can muster." He'd need it to deal with the mini-hooligans across from him.

"Dude, can I at least have a cup of coffee?" Dean said. His eyes were so big and green and so damn pleading that Bobby considered it. Sam seemed to latch on to Bobby's weakness right away.

"I'd like coffee, too...um…please." Sam said, batting his eyes and itching at his metal band around his wrist.

And that was it. Bobby's head flooded with images of the boys staying with him as actual kids when their daddy was off on a hunt – of Sam telling him he'd be sure to behave real good so John'd be proud of him and of catching Dean crying in the closet when John forgot to phone in one night. He peered at them again. They were so damn small. Bobby felt his resolve crumbling even though logic dictated their little stature was the exact reason they shouldn't get coffee.

The waitress laughed. "You two are a handful, aren't ya?" She gave Bobby a wink and pronounced, "I'll bring the boys their milk. And crayons." She smiled back at them. "In case they want to color."

That snapped Bobby straight back to the matter at hand. He'd spent three hours with the two of them wired out of their tiny heads. No way he was giving these fools coffee. He nodded at the woman. "Thank you." She might get herself a good tip after all. She trotted back a second later plopping two sets of crayons and mats in front of the boys. Bobby glanced at Sam's and Dean's indignant little faces. "Don't look at me like that. You're the ones that got your asses cursed."

"Fine." Dean crossed his little arms. Sam quietly pouted beside him and then the little passive aggressive jackass picked up a red crayon and drew a picture that no seven year old should ever draw. Dean seemed to find it hilarious though. He picked up a blue crayon and drew a picture of his own. Bobby reached over, snatching and crumpling up the mats before the food came.

"Hey, man." Dean smirked at him. "Those were for your fridge."

Bobby didn't dignify that with a response. Sam, however, burst into a fit of giggles. Giggles – for crying out loud. Where was his coffee? He rubbed his hand across his face, made himself concentrate.

"Alright, boys, tell me about the curse."

"You already know everything we do Bobby." Dean said. He counted off the days on his small fingers. "Invisible, chicks, kids. That's it so far."

Robin brought the food to the table. Dean grabbed his sandwich and stuffed half of it in his mouth.

Bobby turned to Sam. "Think about the details. What does it feel like when you change? When does it happen?"

"Uh…" Sam pulled the tomato off his sandwich. "Well. It's happened right before sun up each time. And…" He bit the tomato in half. "It doesn't feel good."

"How so?"

"It hurts." Dean said through a mess of sandwich. "Like hell." He must have caught Bobby's concerned expression because he swallowed and continued. "Okay. Maybe not _that_ bad. But bad." Sam nodded in agreement.

Bobby had to digest that for a few minutes. He ate his eggs. When Robin came back with the check, Bobby told her to bring them a sundae.

"You sure 'bout that?" She glanced at Dean and it was evident she didn't believe in rewarding bad manners. Well, what the hell did she know, anyway?

"You know what – bring 'em each one."

Dean apparently had lost some of his dexterity with the change because he ended up with chocolate smeared all over his cheek and chin. Sam fared better, but dropped a big spoonful in ice cream in his lap. Bobby took the time to observe them. They both kept fiddling with the bands on their wrists.

"Does it hurt now?" He asked them. Dean shrugged, but Sam answered.

"It's a little uncomfortable." He said.

"What about yesterday?"

Sam's smooth face fell contemplative. "Not as much."

"Hopefully, we'll have you out of the damn things by tomorrow. Clean up. I want to see that house and talk to the family." Bobby paid the bill and left Robin a twenty percent tip. Lord knows she deserved it for putting up with the three of them. He got the boys settled into the backseat. About ten minutes outside of Bentonville, Dean's cell phone rang.

Bobby watched him in the rearview.

"Hey…you sound weird…back of Bobby's van off of Highway seven, why?...okay, see you soon."

"Hello, Bobby." Bobby almost jumped out of his skin when another kid appeared next to him in the passenger seat. And he almost ran the van off the road when noticed the miniature trench coat and realized it was Dean's damn angel.

"What the hell?" He gruffed out, grabbing for Castiel's small wrist. "You got stuck in one of these, too?" Bobby shook his head. "You two numbskulls forget that part!" He yelled at the backseat. He pulled to the side of the road before he crashed into something.

"They did not know." The angel peered at the band curiously. "I was investigating a revelation omen in France three days ago when the Sumerian band became fixed to my vessels body." The voice was childlike but there was an older tone buried in his words. Castiel leaned over to glance at Sam and Dean. "My form keeps changing." He pursed his lips and peered at them. "I came to seek help with this problem, but I see you have suffered the same fate."

"Hey." Dean sounded annoyed. "Sam and I can't move more than four feet apart without snapping together so fast we're knocked unconscious. How come you can flit about all over the place."

"The band has cursed my vessel, not my essence. It…complicates things. But, as I need this vessel, the matter is of importance."

Bobby sighed. He grabbed his cap off the dash and put it on his head. "How much do you know about the curse?"

"It transforms the wearer, or wearers, into that which he or she desires to be. For six days."

"I want to be me. That's all." Dean said.

"Um…and I certainly didn't want to be a woman or a kid." Sam said.

"Yes." He turned to Sam. "But since learning of your destiny as Lucifer's vessel, there has been a part of you that wanted to disappear." He turned to Dean. "And you often wish for the innocence of childhood."

Bobby turned to the angel. "That doesn't make a lick of sense. Are you telling me Lucifer couldn't have possessed Sam while he was invisible? And Dean ain't so innocent back there, regardless of what he looks like." Bobby glanced at Dean in the rearview. "No offense, boy."

"None taken." Dean said from the back.

"It is a curse. It is not meant to be truly pleasant." Castiel cocked his head.

"Hold up." Dean said. Bobby glanced at him and watched the boy smirked. "Wait. So your saying we became invisible because Sam wanted to disappear and we became pipsqueaks because of my issues…then why'd we become chicks?"

"I have always been curious about the female form." Castiel told him. Dean broke out in laughter, but the angel continued. "That, however, is not why this is a problem. The curse is balanced. The first six days are followed by another six days of transformations. Only the affected turn into that which he or she fears most. And now that I see the bracelets wrap all our wrists, this is more than an inconvenience. I am concerned it is an attack."

Sam leaned up between the seats. "From who?"

The angel moved towards him like they were sharing a secret. "I do not know." He considered Sam's bracelet. "However, the fact you and your brother have also been cursed despite being a continent away does not bode well."

Bobby swore and started the engine. "That's just great." He considered the little boy in the trench coat. "You're going to have to sit in the back."

Castiel looked confused, but obediently climbed into the back. Bobby pulled back onto the road. At least one of them was behaving.


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby knew as soon as he saw the Ranker's house that they were knee deep in bull crap. Grassland, brown and partially covered in snow, surrounded the drive. The structure stood three rickety stories high with a collapsing front porch.

"Huh." Dean crawled up into the front. He put his little legs under him on the seat and frowned up at it through the windshield. "They've really let the place go."

"I take it the place didn't look like that two days ago?" The wind picked up, screaming across the barren landscape. An oak shingle broke off and rocketed into the ground.

Sam peeked around his seat. "We've been here since we've been cursed. Why does it look different now?" He leaned back. Bobby glanced in the mirror.

"It is because of me." Castiel said to Sam. He disappeared a moment later. Sam jingled the door handle and swore. "Bobby, the door won't open." The cold bluster shook the van.

"Hold your horses." Bobby chuckled. He undid the child proof locks – a feature he'd thought he'd never get to use – and glanced at the house. The little boy in the little trenchcoat was already standing on the tilting porch, peering inside, his coat blowing like a cape. Sam got out and jogged to meet him. Dean watched the two and shook his head.

"I guess we should go, too."

Bobby nodded. "Keep your wits about you." He opened the door and engaged the lift.

Bobby leveled himself down and cursed the ground. He had three problems. Actually, he had a bunch of problems but right here and now, he had three immediate problems. His chair was sinking into the brown dirt. The porch didn't have a ramp unless you counted the unwanted lilt it was sporting. And the damn house had three stories. If he found an elevator inside, he sure as hell wasn't getting in it.

Dean trotted around the hood. He put his small hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Hold up." He broke into a huge grin and ran to the front porch, his feet kicking up mud every few steps. He crawled up on the platform between the others and whispered something to Castiel. A moment later the small angel appeared beside him.

Bobby opened his mouth to talk, but before he could get any words out, Castiel touched the chair and Bobby found himself in a once impressive room with dusty velvet furniture and broken antiques. The sound of the wind beating against the walls produced a steady beat.

"Dean said I should transport you inside." Castiel told him. He cocked his head and sniffed the air. "This place contains the scent of an ancient evil. I believe the catalyst for the curse is here."

Bobby leaned back. "You sure?"

"Yes."

That was proof enough for Bobby. He might not trust angels as a whole, but this one had pulled Dean out of hell. He owed him for that. Castiel flicked his hand. The front door pulled open, creaking like old bones, and Sam and Dean clamored inside. Sam scrunched up his nose and pushed his wind-blown hair out of his face. "Musty." He hit the couch, watching a puff of dust fly up. He did it a few more times. Dean jumped on the velvet seat and was encased in a cloud. Bobby ignored them.

"So where are the Rankers, the kids and the dogs?" Bobby said. The walls shuddered with a strong gust and the pictures on the wall shook. "Ain't no one lived here in a while."

"Yeah." Dean jumped on the couch one more time. "What do you think happened to the people?" He asked the angel.

"Hmm. The family you believe you saw was most likely a lure. A glamour designed to bring you into this home and prevent you from seeing the truth."

"And now?"

"The magic is not strong enough to persist in my presence." Castiel peered at them, frowning. "I assumed I was the first to become bound, perhaps a punishment from my brethren, but it seems I was mistaken. Which one of you first touched the objects?"

"That would be the princess." Dean said. He rolled his eyes at the angel's confused brows. "Sam. Sam touched them first. He decided to try on the jewelry we found in the attic." Sam flipped Dean off, but the angel did not seem to notice.

"Interesting." He said, but he chewed the word in a way that made it sound like bad news. He paused to run a hand over the fabric of the couch and set his gaze upwards. "I will check upwards where you claim to have found the bracelets. You investigate the lower floors again."

Bobby figured he'd take the main floor. Not like he was going to be running up the stairs. He wheeled towards a table and lamp.

"Hold up." Dean jumped up and motioned to Bobby. "Take Bobby with you." He said.

Before Bobby could complain that he wasn't a damn accessory he found himself in a new room. This one was crowded and cold, littered with junk and dust. Above him, the slanted ceiling rumbled under the strength of the wind outside. Castiel walked over to the nearest pile of what looked like old rags, wooden toys, and furniture. He considered it – then moved to the next one.

"Don't zap me again." He growled at the boy. "Without warning me first." He rolled himself to the other side of the room, the floor creaking under his weight.

"Yes." He turned to Bobby. "However, Dean said-"

"Look." Bobby cut him off. "Just because Dean said so, don't mean you've gotta do it. Understand?" He pulled a book out of the stack of stuff. It was an Encyclopedia.

"Yes. Of course, Bobby." Castiel watched him. "However, Dean did say to bring you with me."

Oh hell. Bobby rubbed his brow and tossed the book back. He'd had this conversation about a hundred times with Sam over the years. He peered at the angel. "You don't have to do what Dean says." He told him.

"I agree." The angel glanced around the room. "But he said to bring you and I did."

This was exactly why Bobby didn't try talking to Castiel that often. It always felt like he was playing 'who's on first'. He shook his head and sighed. His talks with Sam on the subject had ended about the same way. He took in the little boy. His big blue eyes held a strong expression and the corner of his mouth curled down.

"How are you feeling?"

The angel paused and seemed to be thinking hard about the question. "Confined." He said. "But that is the way I always feel contained in my vessel."

"Well you all are halfway acting like damn kids. All three of you." Bobby said.

"Yes. That is true." He moved towards the end of the attic. The wind blew hard against the roof again and Castiel looked up like he could see the air currents outside the house.

Bobby followed his gaze. "I thought this curse only affected your body."

Castiel looked at him. "As our bodies take on a new form some of the character of that form is transferred to our minds. It is not a concern. As each form lasts for only a day, it is a minor inconvenience."

The angel's eyes caught at the edge of the room. Bobby wheeled behind him, his chair bumping over the uneven floorboards. "You see something?"

He rummaged through the pile - easily picking up heavy items with his kid arms that Bobby would have trouble lifting. "It is as I feared. These are weapons of the wind-demon Pazuza." He picked up a large box with small hand and dropped it to the floor. His smooth face tightened in annoyance. "There is nothing more here. This is unfortunate."

The word, Pazuza, sounded familiar, but Bobby's mind failed to move its meaning to the forefront. "What's it mean?"

"This curse was laid by the Sumerian demon-lord, horror of the northeast wind – a metal bond designed to break the bonds of brotherhood. It was used as a weapon against opponents. The heavenly host smote Pazuza thousands of years ago. The bands have been missing for centuries. I thought them destroyed. But they appeared to have survived and gone unnoticed by taking easy victims." He blinked his blue eyes at Bobby. "We will not be able to break the bonds by destroying the monster. His death far precedes our situation."

Bobby leaned back, watching dust float on the air. "Why you?"

"As Sam was the initiator of the curse, I do not think this is an attack so much as an attraction to evil. The bands gravitated to him because of the taint in his blood – the promise of powerful evil." He glanced down at his wrist and pursed his lips. "But his fight against darkness made him attractive not only as a master but as a victim. Dean was obviously targeted due to their close relationship."

"You're wearing one of those things too." Bobby pointed out.

"Yes. Odd, I agree." He held up his arms and frowned at the band.

"Do you know how to get them off?"

"They will be removable when the cycle of fear begins." Castiel raised his brows. "But, if one of us removes the item, the others will lose their arms. And for Sam and Dean, most likely, their lives."

The boys had come to investigate deaths by amputations. "These things were causing the deaths Dean mentioned, then. We need to destroy the bracelets." Bobby glanced up at the rattling roof. "What happens if they leave them on?"

"The cycle will repeat. I will see what else I can find out." He paused. "I am warning you." Castiel said. Before Bobby could process that, he found himself and the boys loaded in the van; the angel sitting beside him in the passenger seat. "I will return soon." He said zapping out of sight.

Bobby glanced around; made sure everything was in place. He glowered down at his legs. Damn angel could transport him like nothing but couldn't heal his spine. Bullshit, if you asked him. He saw the boys' expectant little faces in the rearview. "You want the good news or the bad news?"

Sam blinked up at him. "There's good news?"

Bobby turned the key. "We're done here." He said, pulling her into drive.

"Yeah. Sam and I kinda figured that when we poofed into the backseat." Dean fidgeted in his seat. "And the bad news?"

"You gotta wait the damn curse out. Either of you pull off those bracelets before times up, the other one dies. Then it starts over again."

"That's just peachy." Dean grumbled, frowning when he noticed his seatbelt was fastened. "Then how the hell do we get outta this. I'm not exactly enjoying being what I apparently want to be. I sure as hell don't want to turn into that I most fear."

Bobby started the engine. "Your angel went to research that. We'll do the same when we get back to my house."

They pulled into Bobby's place late. He ended up sending the boys to bed – damn kids looked like they were about to crash – and pulling out his largest tome on Sumerian myths.

Bobby awoke to the sound of laughing. Loud, unfettered, gleeful laughing. Worry twisted his insides. His fingers moved deftly over the metal wheels of his chair and he rolled himself into the back room and the couch where the boys had bunked down for the night. At the doorway, he stopped. He blinked a few times. A deep chuckle started in his belly and worked its way up to catch in his throat. He kept it there. For Sam's sake, he didn't let himself laugh. No need to make it worse for the boy.

"It's not funny." Sam said to him in an old gravelly tone. Well. He always was an observant one.

Bobby swallowed his amusement, but Dean kept on laughing, kept on holding his stomach and pointing at his brother. Bobby hoped the fool didn't strain anything. He considered Dean. He was less of a surprise. Bobby had seen him old before, but he hadn't seen him this amused in years.

"Stop it, Dean." Sam said. The annoyed pout on his wrinkled face was about all Bobby could take. A few stray chuckles found their way out. Sam glared at him. Then back at Dean. "I hate you both." He said, grabbing his bald head.

Dean uncurled and held up his palms. "Hey, man. Don't blame me. I sure as hell have no desire to grow old. This is all on you, cue ball."

Castiel showed up as Dean fell into another laughing fit. His hair was gray and his eyes a lighter blue, but he didn't look much different overall. Sam harrumphed when he saw him.

"There is no way to break the curse before it runs through a full cycle." He told them.

"What?" Old Dean grunted out, his amusement falling free. "You said we were going to become and I quote 'that which we most fear'. I prefer to stop this before that point."

"To break the hold we must survive the curse. That is all." Instead of walking, the angel transported himself over to the couch and sat. "As long as the two of you do not attempt to part with each other or remove the bands the transformations will not kill you. We have control of our minds. We understand the curse. It is a simple task."

Bobby was too old and too smart to believe that horse shit. "How do we break the hold?" Bobby had the sense of fluttering wings and the angel disappeared from beside Dean and reappeared next to him.

"It is a simple ritual. As I may become compromised I will teach you the necessary steps."

"Compromised?" Bobby didn't like the sound of that.

"Transformed." The angel looked at his wrinkled hand curiously. "It must be preformed the last day as dawn breaks."

"So what do we do in the mean time?" Dean griped.

Castiel fluttered so that he was beside him. "Patience is a virtue." Castiel told him.

Dean's brow knitted in annoyance, then confusion. "First of all, stop all the damn teleporting." Dean said.

"Amen to that." Bobby muttered.

"It is easier than walking in my current state." The angel explained and he had some nerve complaining about walking in front of Bobby. Castiel continued. "However, I will limit myself if it bothers you."

"Good." Dean said. "And secondly, what the hell are we supposed to do now."

"He means we wait, Dean." Sam said in sad tone, carefully patting his shiny head like he expected to find hair on it.

"And you three…" He said deciding Castiel should be included. "Are under house arrest until this thing is finished."

"Peachy." Dean croaked. "Sounds fun even. Like a vacation." He crossed his arms and glared at the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

The boys and their angel were easier to handle as old men than they had been as munchkins. Dean complained about his knees and Sam couldn't seem to get over his lack of hair, but they were behaving. And except for the damn angel teleporting everywhere in God's green earth, Bobby supposed he didn't mind him so much either. He settled the three of them around the table and rolled himself up to it.

"Two more days and then the shit hits the fan." Bobby said. "I'd like to avoid more surprises."

"What are you getting at Bobby?" Sam said rubbing his head.

"Okay. First day – invisible – Sam. Second day – women – Castiel. Third day – kids – Dean. Now, day four, the three of you are wrinkled old codgers and we're figuring that's Sam's 'desire' again. Right?"

Sam and Dean nodded. The angel stared at him without blinking. Bobby continued. "So. I guess that means you're up tomorrow." He motioned to Castiel. "What do you want? What are you curious about."

"Ahh." The angel pursed his lips. "You believe if we determine our wants and fears we will be able to anticipate the transformations." He paused. "This is a good idea."

Bobby huffed. "Well, I'm glad I have you approval."

"Yes. You do. I generally approve of your judgments." Castiel said, face contemplative. "I desire peace. I desire the unconditional love of my father and my brothers. I desire understanding the glories of creation and the knowledge I serve a righteous master."

"That's real helpful." Bobby wondered why he bothered talking to the guy. He looked over and noticed Dean had his eyes closed. "Dean." Bobby jabbed him with a finger.

"Whazzit.?" Dean blinked at him, knocking his elbow against the table.

"We keeping you awake, son?"

"Sorry, Bobby." He cracked and stretched his neck. "Just catching some shuteye."

"Well, wake up. Figure out what it is you desire." Bobby handed him a pen and paper. "And then write down your greatest fears." Bobby said. Dean looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Bobby fixed him with a hard glare. "I mean it, boy. I want to know what I'm going to be dealing with. You too, Sam."

He tossed a pen and paper Sam's way. Sam's eyes were closed and he was snoring softly.

Dean snorted. "Hey. Baldy. Wake up."

Sam eyes fluttered and he stared bleary eyed at Dean. "Huh?" He said smacking his lips.

"Bobby's given us homework." Dean told him.

Bobby went to make lunch – something high in fiber, he decided – and then brought it out to the group. Dean hadn't written anything yet. Sam had four pages. The angel peered at them and then him.

"Perhaps I should teach you the ritual while Dean and Sam consider their desires and fears. I can contemplate the same while we work."

Sometimes, Bobby liked the angel. "Yeah. Good idea." He turned to the boys. "You better have a succinct list of four things when I get back. No more, no less. Maybe then we can figure out what's what."

Sam wrinkled his brow. "Okay. But I've run the course on the desires. I'm only listing fears."

Dean leaned back and frowned. "I'm not doing it if he's not." He sat down his pencil.

They'd better hope they transformed into something cute next time or Bobby might kill them before this was over. "Four things you're afraid of. Four things you want. That ain't hard." Bobby rolled forward. "You both better be done when I get back here, you understand?"

"Fine." Dean said.

Sam waggled his papers at him. "Here. I'm done. I have like eighty things on my list." He turned and smirked at Dean, his skin wrinkling around his eyes and on his hairless head. He looked like he'd gotten the good grade and Dean had flunked out.

"That's too damn many to be useful, Sam. Four things. Get to work."

The angel popped over to stand beside him. "The ritual requires seventy-two ingredients and twelve sigils written in amber ink."

Bobby tried to hold his temper. "I thought you said it was simple."

"There are many other rituals that require much more." Castiel said. "I will meet you in the back." He zapped out of sight. Bobby gave the boys one more warning glare and reluctantly wheeled back to see the angel. It took the rest of the day for him to learn the spell and proper incantations.

When they finally finished, it was late. Sam and Dean were sitting at the table asleep. Sam's mouth was open with drool dangling from the corner. Dean snored loud enough to shake the cabinets. Bobby woke them up, sent them to bed, and collected their lists.

He looked at Dean's first.

**_Desires._**

**_1. Cheeseburger with extra bacon, extra onions._**

**_2. New wax job for my baby. _**

**_3. Sam to stay bald._**

**_4. To not have to deal with all this bullshit. _**

**_Fears._**

**_1. Hell_**

**_2. Hell_**

**_3. Hell_**

**_4. Oh…I guess that would be hell. The end. I'm taking a damn nap now._**

Bobby wasn't sure if that helped him at all. He pulled open Sam's.

**_Hey Bobby._**

**_I don't think the desires are necessary for me at this point. I've tried to narrow down my top four fears and I think these are probably my highest ranked, although, in no particular order. One – I'm afraid of becoming Lucifer's vessel. Two – I'm worried about falling off the no-drinking demon blood wagon again. Three – I'm worried about Dean becoming Michael's vessel and what will happen to him if he does. Four – Okay. Don't mention this to Dean, but he's right, clowns freak me the hell out. They should freak out any sane person._**

**_Sam_**

**_PS Dean's afraid of flying. Put that on his list._**

Bobby stayed awake, considering the lists, and going over the ritual. He decided to get some shuteye around midnight. He'd be no use to anybody half awake.

"Dammit." He grumbled, seeing long sun rays shining through the east window. He hadn't meant to sleep in his wheelchair. He turned his head and almost jumped, finding himself staring into the unsettlingly calm eyes of a Great Dane. The Sumerian band surrounded the dog's neck like a collar. The dog cocked his head.

"So. Unconditional love and the wonder of God's creation, huh? This what you expected?" Bobby snorted. "Where's the idjits?"

The dog didn't answer, but he trotted towards the kitchen. Bobby wheeled after him. Noises were coming from the floor. Yapping and growling noises. He almost rolled back to his room and pulled himself into his bed when he saw what was happening.

There, tumbling on the floor, teeth bared, high-pitched barks coming from their little muzzles were a Chihuahua and a Miniature Poodle. They scampered by him yapping, fighting, and biting, with the bands snugly around their necks.

"Quit it!"

The dogs froze, mid-fight, and looked up at him. The tiny poodle put his head down in what Bobby could only describe as a pout and Bobby knew it was Sam. The Chihuahua gazed up him defiantly like he thought he was a big, mean thing instead of a scrap of fur and attitude. Yeah. That was Dean.

"You better be housebroken, that's all I'm sayin'." He rolled over, reached down, and scooped up both dogs. Dean growled at Sam. "Now I said quit it!" He motioned to the Great Dane to follow and pushed himself into the hall. "You boys aren't gonna be much help today. I'll lock you in the panic room. That way, I'll know you're safe." They looked up at him with their sad puppy-dog eyes. Bobby sighed. "You're good boys." He told them. He felt their little tails wagging against his sides. The poodle cocked its head and yipped when he pushed past the stairs.

"Well I ain't getting down there like that." He pushed himseIf towards the side room. "I put in an elevator, Sam."

He got them food and water and set them down in the room. The poodle immediately started yipping at the Chihuahua. The Chihuahua yapped back and charged him until they were nothing more than a whirling furball. Bobby let out an exasperated breath. He turned to the Great Dane who sat calmly beside him, watching the miniature dog fight with obvious interest.

"Keep an eye on them, alright." Bobby said. "I'll be back in the morning. Can't wait to see what you fools turn into tomorrow." He added with a sardonic undertone. The dog remained silent and probably didn't understand sarcasm, but he kept his eyes on the little dogs scurrying around the room. Bobby couldn't resist. He gave the big dog a pat on the head and then closed the door to hit the books and practice the 'simple' ritual the angel had taught him.

The next morning Bobby approached the panic room with a feeling of unease. Today was the last day the transformations were supposed to be 'good'. Tomorrow, the fears started and those boys and that angel had a hell of a lot of things to be afraid of. And, honestly, the lists they had made weren't helping him predict anything yet.

"One day at a time, Singer." He told himself.

The sound of Dean's voice – Dean's grown-up, normal, masculine voice – yelling inside the room gave him hope as he approached the door. Sam was yelling too. He also sounded right. Not old. Not young. Not female. Maybe Dean just wanted to be himself. That would be great.

He fiddled with the lock. The noises inside stopped. He pushed it open. Both boys rushed him, pushing his chair back against the wall outside with a loud _whap_.

"What the hell-"

"Yeah. That's exactly what we want to know." Dean bit out. His cheek was darkening with a deep bruise, blood dribbled down his chin and his eye was swollen.

Sam stood right beside him, looming over Bobby and the chair. He had almost identical injuries and Bobby was certain they'd moved too far apart and been slammed back together. Castiel walked out and stared at Bobby like he was looking deep into his essence.

"I sense no evil in this man." He said. He turned around and ran his fingers over the door. "I could have opened this door. We did not need to wait to be let out."

Sam huffed and Dean's mouth fell into an annoyed line.

"Look, Fruitcake." Dean turned and glowered at the angel. "Me and-" He frowned, looking at Sam like he was a stranger. "And…the Sasquatch here decided you needed to stay back and shut up and let us handle this, remember?"

Bobby peered at them. "You two get knocked together?"

"What did you do to us?" Sam glared daggers down at him. "It's like we're joined at the hip."

Castiel moved closer. "I have informed them we are suffering from a curse and they are in the presence of an Angel of the Lord, but their faith is…lacking."

Dean held up his hand. "You don't know your own name, or my name, or his name." He pointed to Sam. "So you can just shut it."

"Wait." Bobby took a moment to consider all three of them. "What do you remember?" He asked them.

Sam got close into his space and growled out, "We're the ones asking the questions here. Tell us who the hell you are and how the hell we got here." He motioned to Dean. "Neither me nor Loud and Cocky beside me here are against roughing up a guy in a wheelchair."

Bobby frowned. Well this was annoying as hell. He understood it, though. Dean didn't want to remember the crap they'd been through. The curse translated it to amnesia. He let out an exasperated breath.

"If the two of you move more than four feet apart, the bracelets you're wearing will snap you back together."

"I got an idea." Dean bit out, rubbing his bruised cheek. "Why don't you tell us something we don't know?"

He and Sam loomed dangerously into his space. Bobby was done dealing with this bullshit. He caught Castiel's eyes.

"If you'll zap these two back into the panic room and lock the door, I'll explain everything to you." He grinned up at his boys. "You two hold tight."

Next thing he knew, the door was closed, Sam and Dean were cursing loudly from the other side, and Castiel was gazing down at him clearly curious as to what was going on.


	6. Chapter 6

Outside, the morning sunlight had given way to clouds. Bobby watched thick, wet flakes float past the window pane and sprinkle the ground in white.

"Weather's turning." He said, wheeling around to face the angel. "You understand you're cursed?"

"Of course. I am of heaven's glory and wisdom." He raised an eyebrow. "What am I called?"

The angel stared at Bobby. Bobby stared back.

"Castiel." Bobby said.

The angel cocked his head. His eyes moved down over his trench coat to his hands. He held them up, moving the fingers. "I have taken a vessel." He said.

"Yeah. Well." Bobby snorted. "It's the apocalypse and all."

Castiel moved closer to him. "The apocalypse is at hand? Then I must return to my brothers and seek guidance."

Bobby rolled towards the kitchen. "I don't think that's such a great idea."

The angel followed him. Bobby was glad he'd stopped all his damn teleporting. "You are mistaken. Seeking the insight of heaven is always, as you would say, a great idea."

Bobby snorted. He hoped the angel took the news he was about to give him well. "You and your brothers are on the outs. The closest things you got to family right now are those two boys downstairs." He paused. "And me." He added reluctantly.

Castiel pursed his lips. His gaze hardened and he stepped into Bobby's space. He peered down at him and said, "Explain."

Bobby had to give Castiel credit. He adapted to having amnesia, an apocalypse he didn't remember, and being an outcast from heaven pretty damned well. The angel didn't do more than raise an eyebrow. He couldn't say the same for the boys sitting across from him.

"I had Castiel let you two out. But you're gonna have to trust me." He pushed some sandwiches towards them. Dean could usually be softened with food. "You need to stay here for tonight and camp out in the panic room."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"Where is he?" Sam said.

"He's scouting around the property and nearby areas. He thought-" Bobby took in a deep breath. "He thought we all might be vulnerable in our current states."

"From monsters and demons and things?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. That's right." Bobby held his gaze.

"And we're supposed to believe that?"

"Yep."

Sam looked at his brother and shrugged.

"Okay." Dean said. "Let's say we believe you. I still want to know what you did to…uh…that guy?"

"Who?"

"Fruit Loops. He seemed upset."

Bobby spun around and went to the fridge. "I told him the truth." He grabbed three beers and brought them back.

Sam took one. "Look…um…Bobby…I think it's time you told us the truth, too." he said.

"Alright." Bobby motioned to the sandwiches. "It's a helluva story. Eat while I talk." Bobby said. He leaned back and glanced at the snow falling in front of the window. When the two of them tentatively took bites of the food, he started talking. He told them everything. Well. Almost. He only left out the parts about hell and the apocalypse and freeing Lucifer, but he told them the rest of it.

After he finished, Dean grinned at him over his third sandwich. "So basically we're awesome. And we have an angel as a pet."

"Yeah." Bobby smiled, felt his heart ache a bit. "That's what I keep trying to tell you idjits."

Dean stood up and stretched. He glanced out the window. He took in a quick breath and straightened. He turned back to Bobby like he was about to answer the most important question ever asked.

"Dean?" Bobby sat up.

"Dude." He looked out the window again and back at Bobby. "Dude. Please tell me that beauty outside is my car."

Bobby relaxed. "You got it." Bobby said.

Dean broke out a huge grin. Sam lumbered up. He bent down and looked out the window. "Nice." He told his brother.

Dean's expression bled with indignation. "She's a whole lot more than nice."

Sam shrugged. "Snow's starting to get heavy. Will the car be alright out there?"

"Bobby, man, we can't leave her out there." Dean sounded frantic.

"Don't worry. You can pull her into the building out back." Bobby pointed to Dean's jacket hanging off the couch. "Your keys are in the pockets."

He walked over. Sam jumped up to follow him.

"Hey." Sam said with a pinched face. "I have to go where you go – so don't go walking off without me. Got it. Unless you want me to rip your damn arm off."

Dean stopped and turned. Bobby thought he was going to have another damn fight on his hands. Dean grinned – a tight, annoyed grin.

"Okay." He said. "Can we go check out the awesome car?"

"Fine." Sam said, irritation still evident in his tone. "I'll get my coat."

"Good." Dean said, grabbing for his jacket.

"Oh. One more thing." Bobby said. They turned to look at him. He figured they might need a distraction from throttling each other. "You boys have a bunch of guns hidden in the trunk. You might want to bring them inside. Just in case."

"Wait." The annoyance left Dean's expression. "Not only is that my car, but she's chocked full of weapons."

"Yep." Bobby said.

"Friggin' awesome." He slapped Sam on the back. "C'mon Sammy. Let's check out the wheels and the thrills."

"Yeah, sure thing, man." Sam rolled his eyes, but he looked amused. "And, dude, I'm sure I don't let you call me Sammy."

Bobby vaguely wondered if giving them weapons was a good idea. Truth be told, though, those two could tear each other apart with found objects as well as knives and pistols. And they did seem less agitated when they returned.

The angel came back while they were cataloging and cleaning the guns. He looked no different than any other day, but Dean kept asking him if he was okay, so maybe Bobby just hadn't figured Castiel's tells yet.

"You find out anything?" Bobby asked him.

"There are many dark things in the area. Though none approaching the house." He picked up a silver blade and examined it. "However, we should be careful."

Bobby grunted. He decided to camp out in front of the panic room with them. It was the safest place and he wanted to see the transformations and be able to react to the curses 'bad' phase.

The boys bickered half the night. Which Bobby considered quite an accomplishment, since they didn't know a damn thing about each other. By three in the morning, he'd had enough.

"Not another word!" He voice echoed in the room. "Go to sleep. Both of you."

Sam looked like he might argue. But he gave Dean a glower and turned over and was quiet. Dean rolled his eyes and fell back on his sleeping bag. It was peaceful for a few hours. But right before sun up, Sam and Dean started screaming. The angel stayed still. Their skin pulsated - shrinking and swelling like mice running under their skins. Their limbs cracked and popped. Then the boys collapsed to the floor.

"It is an unpleasant sensation." The angel said scanning the limp forms on the ground.

Bobby turned to him and was taken aback. The angel had a white and red polka-dot cape and a blue frizzy wig. Bobby noticed movement on the floor. Dean and Sam began to stir. Castiel walked over to check on them, his left foot honking with each step. Bobby didn't know whether to laugh his head off or sigh in relief.

Dean had on a red jumpsuit with a white ruffled collar and red, spiked hair. Sam's head was bare except for a few puffs of green hair sticking out from behind his ears. He had on big pants with glittery suspenders. All three of them had long shiny clown shoes and round rubber noses.

Sam lumbered to his feet. Bobby rolled closer. The boy stood hunched over, still reeling from the change. Bobby patted him on the back.

"You got your memories back?" Bobby said.

"Yeah. Yeah. I think so." Sam stood to his full height and set his shoulders straight. "I feel okay except for-" He stopped with a startled squeak when he saw Dean. He stepped back.

"Dude." Dean motioned to himself. "I knew you didn't like clowns – but greatest fear? Really?" Then he reached up and squeezed his nose. _Honkkk!_ He looked as amused as hell. He did it again. _Honnkk!_

Sam stifled in a breath. He glanced at Castiel and his eyes grew bigger, pure horror written on his face. He stepped back again.

The angel reached out and stopped him. "You should not move any farther away."

Sam took a deep breath. He looked at the ceiling and the wall and the floor – anywhere but at Dean or Castiel. He steadied himself and glanced down at his clothes.

"Oh god." He said. He reached up and felt his head and the green puffs of hair near his ears.

Dean started snickering.

"It's not funny, Dean!" Sam said.

Bobby rubbed his brow. Sam sounded halfway between scared shitless and pissed to hell. Bobby didn't know which was preferable.

"Dude. It's freakin' hilarious." Dean pointed to his head. "You're bald again."

And there went Dean helping the situation.

Sam glowered at his brother and reached up to pull off his nose. It didn't budge. "Shit, man. I think it's attached."

"I like it." Dean honked it a few times. He pointed at his brother. "Anyway, this is all on you, Sam. We're clowns. Might as well enjoy the ride."

"It's just for one day, Sam." Bobby tried to diffuse the two of them.

Dean opened his mouth to speak – probably about to say something to send Sam off – but a spray of water hit him in the face. Dean turned to Castiel.

"It appears my button shoots water." The angel told him. He pushed it again hitting Dean. "Interesting." He started pushing the other buttons on his outfit but there was no other effects.

"I'm glad you guys find this entertain-." Sam was cut off by a crashing sound upstairs.

Everyone stilled.

Castiel sniffed the air. It was peculiar, especially with his round nose and white face paint. "Demons." He said.

Dean clomped over towards the shotguns. _Honk._ Clop. _Honk._ Clop. _Honk._ He frowned down at his shoes. "We'll take care of it." He told Bobby. "You stay here where it's safe."

Bobby felt his face heat up. He clenched his fists and wheeled himself into Dean's space. "Are you trying to bench me, boy – in my own house?"

Dean leaned down. A pompom on his jumpsuit hung in front of Bobby's face. "Look, Bobby. Maybe you should sit-" He stopped there. The fool had enough common sense not to say anything more. Bobby was glad Dean had some sense of self-preservation. But Bobby was going to give him a royal ass-kicking later for trying to pull this crap.

"Castiel can teleport me upstairs. You and Sam sneak around the back." Bobby grabbed one of the shot guns. "I'm part of this."

"Yeah." Dean looked sheepish – or as sheepish as he could with his huge red painted smile. "Sure thing." He waved at Sam who was staring down at his shoes. "You got the plan, Sammy?"

"Huh?" Sam said. He was pale. "Um…yeah. Yeah." He said more firmly. His face turned angry. "Send the sonuvabitches back to hell. I got it."

"That's good." Dean rolled his eyes. "Glad to hear it, Binky. Now let's get a move on. Alright? Bring the knife."

Sam mumbled something about 'bossy bastards', but the two of them clopped and honked towards the door.

Castiel appeared beside Bobby. He hadn't walked the short distance and Bobby figured he didn't like the sound effects. "I am warning you." He said, placing his arm on Bobby's shoulder.

He transported them to the front room. The front door had been knocked off its hinges and lay in pieces. Two large men stood inside behind it – one looked like Mr. Clean with an attitude and the other had light hair and a thick scar across his face.

"I want to sink my teeth into you." Scarface told the angel.

Both demons focused on Castiel. Well, if they were too foolhardy to think Bobby was a problem; then the evil bastards would get what was coming to them.

"Get the hell outta my house." Bobby raised his gun and fired. Scarface flew back against the wall. The angel grabbed the Mr. Clean and began reciting an exorcism. His polka-dot cape waved as the snow blew in the door. The demon looked damned confused as he grappled with the angel. It struggled in his grasp, knocking his button. Water squirted into its face. Scarface's skin began to sizzle. The angel paused, glancing down approvingly, and then went back to the Latin.

Bobby's hands caught in the spokes of the wheels as he hurried to get closer to the demon again. Cursing his clumsiness, he stopped and aimed, firing another shot. The blast forced Scarface farther back.

Bobby reloaded, hearing shots firing outside. He got the shotgun ready a third time. More shots rang out from outside. Then he heard running. _Honk-honk-Honk-honk-Honk-honk._ The boys bounded through the door. Dean fired at the scarred demon a third time, knocking it to the floor.

"Grab the salt!" He shouted.

Black smoke flew from Castiel's demon. The human it had ridden fell to the floor dead. The angel appeared by the other demon and grabbed him. _Honk. _Scarface punched his nose.

Bobby pushed his chair around with deft skill. He grabbed the salt hidden by the fireplace and whirled back towards Dean and Sam. The boys were shooting outside while putting the front door back up. He spread the crystals across the threshold and then wheeled around the room, salting the other doors. Castiel cast the disfigured demon into the devil's trap Bobby kept hidden under the living room carpet. It got up and snarled at them.

Bobby ignored the demon for the moment. "What's happening?" He asked Sam.

"There's at least five more of them outside. And Dean thought he saw two zombies, too."

"I don't 'think', Sam. I know." Dean said as they fit the door into place.

Sam stepped back. He itched at the green hair by his temples and grimaced and Bobby thought he was more concerned about the hair than the demons.

"We need to regroup." Sam said.

"There's a panic room downstairs." He reminded them.

"Yes." Castiel said. He moved towards them. Clop. _Honk. _Clop. _Honk._ "We should first interrogate this vile creature." He motioned to the demon. "Then it may be prudent to make use of your safe room."

"You think this is related to the curse?" Bobby said.

"It is possible." Castiel said. "But I still do not believe the curse was an intentional attack. Perhaps the demons have found out about the malediction and are using the opportunity. We should find out." He turned towards the trapped demon. Bobby and the boys followed his gaze.

The demon licked his lips and gazed at the three clowns. It's eyes lingered on Dean. "Dean Winchester? Is that you?" It cackled, but looked nervous. "Always knew you were a real Bozo." The demon sneered at him.

"Funny." Dean reached up and made his nose honk. "But this clown's about to kick some ass."

The demon moved as close to him as possible. It glanced between Sam and Dean and Castiel. "You smell so good." It leered. "Come closer. Please." It begged. "Please come closer."


	7. Chapter 7

Bobby watched as Dean's chalked face pulled in disgust.

"Sorry Freaky." Dean said, tugging the sleeves of his jumpsuit down. "You're definitely not my type."

The demon smiled big. "But you're my type." He turned lusty eyes on Dean, then Sam, then Castiel, and back to Dean again. "I could eat you up. All three of you." It threw itself towards Dean, hitting the invisible barrier of the devil's trap with a frustrated oomph. The force knocked its head in Sam's direction. Its eyes grew big and frantic. "Sam? Oh. Sammy. You come within reach and I'll let you drink all the blood you want. Anything you want, Sam. Anything. Just come over here."

"Um…I think I'll pass." Sam scrunched up his round red nose and white face. He turned to Bobby looking disturbed. "Uh…Bobby?" He nodded towards the corner of the room away from the demon. "Can we…uh…discuss this?"

Bobby wheeled over. Sam and Dean clomped and honked their way to meet them. Bobby didn't see or hear the angel move, but he appeared beside them.

"This demon seems…um…disconcertingly happy to be trapped with us." Sam said.

Bobby glanced back at it and the others followed his gaze. The scar-faced demon pushed against the unseen barrier like a withdraw-ridden addict reaching for a free hit.

"It sure ain't acting normal." Bobby turned back to the boys. "You saw two zombies out there, too?"

"Yeah. Your yard's full of nasties." Dean glanced back at the demon and shuddered. "Ugh. I think its undressing me with its eyes."

Castiel put his finger to his red painted mouth. "Wait here. I will talk with the abomination." He readied a hand on his water-shooting button and transported across the room to the edge of the trap. The demon lunged at him, squashing against the edge, breathing hard.

"Hello." The angel said, just beyond its reach.

"Please…" It said, pleading, dark eyes flicking at Castiel and filling with tears. "Please."

"Tell me what brought you here and I will…come to you." He said.

Dean snorted from beside Bobby. "Kinky." He said nudging at Sam. He shut his mouth at Bobby's sober expression.

The demon seemed to consider it for all of ten seconds before babbling away. "I was eighty miles away. You know, doing some scouting for the big boss guy. And I smelled you – at sun up. I left my post. I had to get to you. Rip you apart. Consume you. I don't care what happens. I have to."

"Hmmm." Castiel cocked his head at the thing. "Did you know Sam and Dean Winchester and an Angel of the Lord were the source of the addicting scent?"

It whimpered. "Come over. You said you'd come-"

"Answer me." Castiel said, sounding like a strict school marm.

"No. I didn't know. I don't care about that. Please….please…I need you. You promised."

Castiel nodded. "Of course, my vile child." He stepped into the circle with an expression Bobby would have almost called cocky. He grabbed the demon by the shirt, and, within a minute, exorcised it.

Bobby stole a glance up a Dean. The boys face flashed with pride. Leave it to Dean to teach a damn angel bad habits.

Castiel appeared beside Bobby a moment later. "It appears we are drawing unwanted attention. The demon became attracted to us when the curse shifted."

"Well that sucks." Dean scratched at his nose. "It's not like good things wanted us for the first half."

Bobby wheeled himself over to the window. Two demons circled the house, looking for entry. He was betting the others were nearby as well.

"I don't know." Sam moved towards him, walking with his feet tilted up so he wouldn't make noise. "We did make twelve hundred dollars when we went hustling. And the waitress was nice at the diner."

"Sam." Dean said. "That's not the same."

He shrugged. "No one ran into us when we were invisible." He peeked out. "I wonder where the other three went."

"They are near." The angel said. "We should secure your home and then regroup in your room of safety."

"Let's get to it." Bobby held up his hand. "But I want you to understand that if I'm gonna be stuck down there with the three of you for the next five days – I expect you to behave." He hit Sam and Dean with a hard expression. "No more fightin' with each other. Got it. You can save that nonsense for later."

"Sure thing, Bobby." Sam cast his eyes down at his big shoes and grimaced. "This curse is stupid."

Dean laughed beside him. "You're wrong, Sam." He reached up and honked Sam's nose. "Dude, this is the best curse ever."

"Boys." Bobby warned, reloading his gun. "Let's take care of the riffraff in the yard and then get settled."

***

The next morning, Bobby watched again as the boys screamed and their bodies pulsed. They clamored up from the floor looking normal.

Sam reached up. He touched his nose and then his hair. He dropped his eyes and ran them over his jeans and boots. "Oh thank god." He said.

Dean spun around a few times, kicking his legs and swinging his arms. He looked to Sam and then to Bobby. "I feel normal." He said, holding up the bracelet.

"Yeah." Sam scrunched his face in deep thought. He twisted the thing around his wrist. "Me too." His gaze traveled to Castiel.

The angel was on the floor in a heap under his trench coat. He got to his knees and then feet, shaking his head like his ear was full of water. "That was not expected." He said. He stumbled back.

"Wait-" Bobby said as the pieces fit into place. But it was too late. Sam, Dean, and Castiel slammed into each other – a three-way human train wreck with cracking skulls and cursing. Bobby made his way toward them. None of them were hurt. Bobby couldn't help but let out a wry chuckle. "Guess the three of you are all human for this one."

Dean rolled off the other two and sat sprawled on the floor. He pushed the angel over. "Okay. I _want_ to be human. Sam _wants_ to be human. And I'm not complaining. This is a hell of a lot better than yesterday. But what the hell do you have against being human, Cas? I thought you were fond of all 'god's creations'.

Castiel frowned and rubbed the side of his face. He licked the blood dribbling from his nose. "This is fascinating." He said catching Dean's glare. "I fear falling from grace. Making the wrong decision in these troubling times. If anything, that is why we find ourselves in these incarnations."

"Don't worry about it, Cas." Sam patted him on the shoulder. "This is so much better than anything else we've been subjected to these last few days."

"You're just happy you have hair and no one's a clown." Dean laughed. "You looked freaked as hell all day yesterday."

Sam rolled his eyes. "When we're all flight attendants tomorrow, I'm going to laugh my ass off."

Dean looked away. Then he looked back with a mischievous expression. He nodded to Castiel. "We should sneak out and get him a girl."

'"Dean…" Bobby started.

"Look. We tried when he was…himself…and he scared away a prostitute." Dean laughed out loud, reliving the memory. "He might not get another chance."

"Wait." Sam sounded horrified. "You bought Castiel a hooker?"

The angel planted a hand on Sam's arm. "She was a fine, young woman." He assured him. "I did not mean to upset her."

Dean laughed louder. "He got us chased out of the brothel. Dude, I didn't tell you about it?"

Sam frowned with something between jealousy and hurt on his face.

"Well." Dean said, smiling. "It was epic, Sammy. Epic."

Sam's face fell contemplative. He seemed to be considering everything. "It would be nice to get out of here for a little while." He said. "And we probably should kill anything lurking around the house again anyway. Then we could take-"

"No." Bobby told them. And this was the problem with dealing with Winchesters and angels of the Lord. They were so accustomed to fighting demons, ghosts and having weird stuff happen to them, they treated it all like the everyday. Bobby caught Dean's gaze – made sure the boy understood he was serious. "No. We're going to do our spring cleaning and then were camping out again until this curse has run its course. You three ain't going nowhere."

Dean's eyes dropped to the floor and away from Bobby's serious expression. "Yeah, alright." He clamped his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Sorry, man." He grinned. "Hey. You know what. Bobby, Sammy and I'll teach you how to play poker instead. How 'bout it?"

"That is acceptable." Castiel said. "After the…um…spring cleaning of the yard.

Bobby snorted and grabbed his gun.

The four of them took out two more demons and rawhead and settled back into the room. Bobby spent the rest of the day in cramped courters with the boys, glancing upwards and hoping not to be struck down, more or less corrupting an angel of the Lord by teaching him how to cheat at cards without getting caught.

Once they settled down for the night and he was as certain as he could be the other three were asleep, Bobby cast his eyes up towards the ventilation fan again and imagined the sky outside.

"Well." He offered to whatever god might be listening. "If he ever does fall; it's a skill he can bank on."

***

Bobby awoke at sun-up. He was alone in the panic room.

"Sam! Dean!" No one answered. If the fools had snuck out to get that angel laid there'd be hell to pay. He pulled himself off the cot and into his chair. He stuck his silver knife in the special pocket he'd fashioned under the seat and he nested his shotgun in a ring beside the right wheel. Cursing, he fished out his cell phone.

He dialed Dean. It went straight to voicemail. He dialed Sam. Same thing. He took in a deep breath and shook his head. What had things come to when he had an angel's number on speed dial? He dialed Castiel and waited. One thing about the angel, if he was in the realm, he always answered his phone.

The line picked up and a robotic voice spoke. _"The number you have reached has been disconnected due to nonpayment."_

Bobby slammed shut the cell and placed it in his shirt pocket. He grasped his pistol in his left hand, rolled to the door and pushed, letting it swing open. The hallway was clear.

"Boys!" He said, moving towards the lift to the ground floor. The only sound in the house was the scrape of his wheels and the sound of elevator machinery grinding.

The ground floor was empty. Bobby searched outside, careful in case more evil things had been drawn to the area and were prowling the yard. Nothing was there and the boys' car was in the barn. Not good. Not good at all.

Bobby wheeled into the kitchen, brewed himself a cup of coffee. He grabbed the list Dean had made of his fears and let his eyes roam over the numbers – 1. Hell, 2. Hell, 3. Hell, 4. Hell, and then, at the end, in Bobby's own curvy handwriting, 5. Flying.

He spiked his mug with some whiskey. He took a sip, let the heat and alcohol burn his mouth, take his mind off the deep seated worry swirling in his belly. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He hoped to heaven those boys were on an airplane.


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby waited by the phone. He practiced the ritual to remove the bracelets. He made lunch. Then, later, he made dinner. He watched as the moon rose and lit the snow banks outside the window. Pulling out a bottle of whiskey, he leaned back and drank half of it down. Whatever had zapped the boys away that morning; would likely zap them back tomorrow. The overwhelming need to pace rushed over him. Damn chair. He scoffed. Damn legs. He drank the rest of the bottle. Odds were they'd be back in the morning. And Bobby believed in playing the odds. He rolled to the freezer and took out bacon to thaw.

The next morning the snow outside was deeper and the only sound inside the house was the creak of Bobby's wheelchair over the wooden floor. Bobby grabbed the bacon off the counter and tossed it back in the fridge.

"Dammit." He said slamming the door shut.

He rolled to the back room, fumbled around in his desk and closet, and set up equipment on the oak table. Scrying was close to a dark art. He didn't use it unless it was an emergency. Too close to witchcraft for his comfort. But it worked pretty damn well. And he needed to know where Sam, Dean, and their angel had ended up.

By midday, Bobby had put the instruments away. They were nowhere. Maybe the runes carved in their ribs hid them. If they could hide them from angels; they could hide them from him. Made sense. He wheeled himself into the kitchen, put his head in his hands and exhaled. Those two always found their way back he told himself. Even from hell.

"Bobby?"

Bobby started. He looked up. Sam stood in front of him, his brow wrinkled, and his eyes big and concerned. The bracelet looked loose on his arm.

"Are you okay?" Sam leaned closer.

Bobby glanced around. Dean stood to the left of him. The boy looked down and fiddled with his band when Bobby caught his eyes.

"Where the hell have you two been? I've been worrying myself sick." Bobby growled out.

"Huh?" Sam said, swallowing. "Oh…um…yeah. Well."

"That's real enlightening, Sam." He turned to Dean. "You mind explaining this?" Bobby glanced at Sam again and then back at Dean. Something wasn't right. "You're farther than four feet apart." He said.

Dean grinned. "Yep."

"You're still cursed?" Bobby said.

"Yep."

Bobby ran his hand over his head. He snatched his cap off the counter and pulled it on. "Where's Castiel?"

Dean snickered. "He's gone to catch up with Zachariah." Dean took in a deep breath. "He'll be back soon enough."

"Alright." Bobby was in no mood for any nonsense. "Like I said, where the hell have you two been?"

"Hell." Dean said. He shrugged. "But now we're back. Nice place to visit, but I don't want to live there."

"Hell?"

Dean looked away and sat down at the table. "It was no biggie. Cas drew this magic circle around us and then we chilled out until we changed again."

"No biggie?" Sam stalked up. He looked about as pissed as Bobby ever remembered seeing him. He jerked out the chair and slammed himself down. "Seriously, Dean?"

"Sam…" Dean said.

"It was hot and terrible and demons sneered and gawked at us the entire time." Sam slammed his fist on the table, the hollow sound echoing in the room. "One day up here is four months down there."

He said to Bobby like Bobby didn't know. Bobby had read everything he could about hell when Dean been stuck down there the first time.

Sam cut his eyes back to his brother. "And you spent the entire time shaking in the middle of the circle begging me to get away from the edges. You did that for four months."

Dean was silent for a moment. He waved at Sam dramatically. "Well, can you blame me?" Dean huffed. "Being stuck in a ten feet diameter circle with you is enough to drive anyone nutty. That was my real fear. Not being a soul trapped in hell, being a soul trapped in a hell circle with you. I'm surprised Cas didn't zap himself away. You even drove the angel bonkers."

Sam leaned closer into Dean's space. "Cas didn't 'zap' himself away because he was too busy trying to keep the circle unbroken and help me calm you down. Besides, he didn't have the power." The words came out quick and angry.

Dean's lip twitched. He gave Sam a mirthless smile. "Yeah. And you handled hell so well. Cas had to manhandle you back inside the ring five times." Dean caught Bobby's eyes and nodded to Sam. "Genius, here, tried to jump out of the protective barrier so he could rough up some smack talking demons." He raised an eyebrow and turned back to his brother. "Because, you know, that works so well. Roughing up demons. In hell. Where a normal day is nonstop torture." Dean paused. "That was probably the best time they'd had in centuries, dipshit. You want to mess with them, ignore them. Like me."

"You didn't ignore them. You curled up in a ball and cried the whole time." Sam's face lit up in anger. "And begged. Don't forget the begging."

"If I was crying it was because you kept wrapping your giant arms around me like a damn leech and talking crap. No one should have to deal with that shit. Terrifying man." He shuddered.

"It's called comfort, Dean. And you wouldn't let go of me most of the time." He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Besides. Those demons got theirs."

Bobby held up a hand. "Stop." He said. They both turned to him. "Enough." He pulled his cap down tighter on his head. He needed to get them back to the matter at hand. This wasn't the time for a fight. "So up here...the day ended and you three wound up topside again?"

"Not exactly. We were still in hell." Sam said. The anger drained from his face. A sly smile replaced it. "One of my greatest fears is becoming Lucifer's vessel." He smiled bigger. "Hosting an arc-angel."

"Okay." Bobby waited.

"Yeah." Dean laughed. "Like I said, super-powered. We smote the freakazoid demons lurking around the circle and got the hell out of…well…hell."

Sam hit him with a pissy look.

"Fine." Dean said, pointing towards his brother. "Tall with anger Issues here smote the demons and then we followed Cas out of the pit." He shrugged. "We would have been by earlier, but, you know, busy morning."

"Hold up." Bobby glanced between them. "You're tellin' me the two of you are angels."

"Nah." Dean said, full on smirking. "Just…angel-powered. You know. For a day or so. We think."

"Watch." Sam said. He disappeared from his seat and reappeared standing next to Bobby. "I don't know how Cas ever makes himself walk. Really, Bobby, this is so much more efficient."

Bobby bit his tongue. Sam should know better than to tell him how inefficient walking was. The boy was lucky Bobby was into cutting him some slack. Dean seemed to pick up on his agitation.

"Sam's trying to say it's awesome." He explained.

Bobby had the impression of fluttering wings and Dean suddenly was leaning against the fridge pulling out the bacon.

"And it's nothing like flying. More like driving with the windows open. I'd get a beer, but I don't think we can get drunk like this." His face fell a little like someone had snagged his favorite toy. "But bacon's bound to still be good, right?"

Bobby shook his head. "Angels?"

"Well." Sam shrugged. "Kinda. Till sun up." He took in a deep breath. "At first…well…I mean after I took care of those dumb demons that had been jeering at Dean for the four months…we thought maybe we should go after Lucifer. You know, hit him while we have an advantage."

Dean reappeared with a plate of perfectly cooked bacon. "But Cas said Lucifer is like a super-super powered arc-angel. He didn't think it would work." He stuffed three pieces of bacon in his mouth. "Dude's such a buzzkill sometimes."

Sam put his arm on Bobby's shoulder and looked down at him. "So...um…Dean and I got a better idea. We just had to keep Cas busy for a little while we did research. I suggested he find and interrogate his old boss. Promised him Dean and I would lie low."

"And he bought that?"

"I don't know." Dean said. "But I think he liked the idea of roughing up Zachariah." He chuckled. "That guy grows on me more and more."

Bobby looked at each of them in turn. He let his skepticism show. "What are you boys up to?"

Dean full-on smiled at him. "It's a surprise." He said. "We figured out something else to do. Maybe even better that kicking Lucifer's ass right back to hell."

Bobby sure as hell didn't like the sound of that. Anger rushed over him. The last thirty hours had been some of the longest of his life, worrying the boys had gotten stuck in hell, were being tortured or torn apart or worse. And now he finds out his worries were substantiated. And the stubborn bastards act like the whole ordeal was nothing. Typical. Just like their daddy.

"Hey, man. We're really sorry to have worried you." Sam said. "We would have called. But, you know, no reception downstairs."

Bobby cocked his head at him. "You listening to my thoughts now?"

"Um…Sorry." He looked down sheepishly. "It's hard not to…you know…read people like this. We're really alright, Bobby. The whole angel inside kinda diminishes the bad effects of hell."

"And what about tomorrow?" Bobby said. "Cause you got two more days of this and I'm pretty sure you won't be angels at sun-up."

Dean shrugged. "We deal with bad shit all the time. We'll just push it down and ignore it. Gotta go with what works."

"So." Bobby didn't mention how well that hadn't worked for them. Figured they could read it from him just fine and dandy. "What's this grand better-the-world plan you two came up with?"

"Um…well…it's a good plan. Maybe not for the world in general. But." Sam squeezed his shoulder tighter. "It took us a little while to figure out how it worked. Well…it took us about an hour."

Bobby's patience was ending. "What are you two going to do?" He said weariness heavy in his words. Never trust a Winchester, he reminded himself for the second time since this curse had started, not with anything more than your life or your family. And sure as shit never with their own lives. "Out with it." He made sure the stubborn jackasses knew it wasn't a request.

"Geezus, Bobby." Dean appeared beside him and grabbed his other shoulder. "It's a surprise. We're not gonna destroy our souls or anything."

"You know I don't like surprises. Now spill it."

The two exchanged loopy grins.

"I have a better idea. We'll show you." Sam said.

A bolt of tingling heat worked from each of his shoulders down to his chest and to his abdomen. The warmth moved lower to his thighs and calves and toes. Wait. He looked down at his legs. He hadn't felt anything past his navel since stabbing himself.

"What the…" Bobby started. "Did you boys…did you just…" He choked on the words and tried wiggling his toe. His boot shifted. "I…I.." He looked up at them, not knowing what to say, afraid to hope that this meant what he thought it meant.

"Surprise." Dean said, his face alight. "Figured if we had enough juice to ascend outta hell, we should be able to fix your legs. Sammy found out how to do it real fast. Just takes concentration."

Sam's expression was more serious. "So…um…can you walk?" He said, pulling Bobby his feet. "I think it should hold after today. Like mostly sure. Almost positive."

Bobby stood, steadied by the boys' hands on his shoulders. His knees felt scrawny. His chest tightened. He considered everything again. His knees felt. He felt his knees. And his toes.

"Bobby?" Dean's smile faltered. "You alright?"

Bobby's couldn't speak. He was standing up. He was standing up and it was so overwhelming the room was spinning. He laughed loud and Sam's and Dean's faces contorted with worry. Oh lord. He was about two seconds from passing out. He'd never live that down. No way was he fainting in front of a Winchester. No way.

"Gimme…gimme a second." He forced out. He pulled out of their grasp and took a tentative step. He circled the room. His third time around, Castiel showed up.

The angel cast a curious glance at him trotting around and turned to the boys. "I received little information from Zachariah. However, as he is dangerous, I placed him in a fortified room for the time being. Until someone releases him, he will be forced to stay."

"Bobby's got his legs back." Dean told him, looking half guilty and half defiant.

"Yes." Castiel considered the statement. "I am surprised that you and Sam were able to channel enough power to heal, but I am happy for you."

Bobby walked up to Sam and grabbed him in a hug. He did the same to Dean.

"About damn time, too." He turned away from them so they didn't see the his eyes watering up.

"Yeah. Well." Dean patted him on the shoulder. "You got that right."

The angel sighed. And Bobby realized he was picking up some of Sam's bad habits too. Pouting chief among them.

Castiel held up his palm. "I know this brings all of you joy, but we must prepare for the next two days and the ritual to remove the bands."

Dean rolled his eyes. He mouthed 'buzzkill' at Bobby. Bobby could care less. He walked over and gave the angel a pat on the back.

"Thanks for taking care of them. Down there."

The angel peered at him. "I had little choice. My powers are limited with my separation from heaven. I simply contained us until the curse again shifted. We were lucky the more powerful demons have been sent to the earthly realm to fight for Lucifer. We were lucky Sam fears him with such fervor that my powers were enhanced for this day."

Bobby went to the fridge and grabbed four beers. "You may not feel the alcohol, but I'm up for a celebratory beer." He gave one to each of them.

The angel took the beer easily enough. But he didn't seem to quite get the idea of celebrating.

"I fear being unable to serve." Castiel said. "This could translate into something bad."

Dean shrugged and clanked his beer against Bobby's bottle. "Relax. It won't be as bad as hell or as effin' great as today. We'll handle it." Dean stretched out. "Come on. Let's go smote the hell out of anything dumb enough to sniff us out."

***

The next morning Bobby held his breath as he sat up in bed. He tried to move his leg. It stretched. He stood up. He checked the house for the others by walking into every room. It was empty. Before Bobby's worry had overcome his thrill at walking, the phone rang.

"_Bobby?" _It was Dean. Peaceful music played in the background.

"You alright? Where are you boys?" Bobby sat at the table. Then he changed his mind and stood up to lean against the counter.

"_I don't know. I think it's some sort of spa. They won't let us do anything. Dude, they brought breakfast to my hot tub. And I don't think there's an evil thing in a hundred mile radius. If this is Cas's idea of not being able to serve, the guy's got serious issues. This place is great."_

"You're all safe." Tension left Bobby's body.

"_Bobby, we are all fan-friggin'-tastic." _

Bobby heard Sam's voice in the background. _"It_ _doesn't make up for that day in hell." _Sam said.

Dean's voice turned away from the receiver. _"But pretty damn close. Hey, Sammy, tell the girl I want more pancakes."_ His voice redirected towards Bobby. _"Except for having to be within four feet of Sam – this is the best thing ever, Bobby. I not sure I even wanna break this curse. Cas said he could zap us back, that we could do nothing at your place as easily as anywhere, but I told him we'd ride this one out here…"_

He kept blabbering and Bobby hung up on him. He went outside and walked to the store.

The final morning, the boys and the angel showed up fifteen minutes after sun-rise. They were dressed as flight attendants.

Castiel turned to Bobby. "Dean did not want to 'ride this one out'." He said.

Sam laughed. He was holding five little bottles of liquer. "Oh." He followed Bobby's gaze down to them. "I…um…grabbed them before Cas brought us here. I was going to get Dean drunk and stuff him in the lavatory until he calmed down, but Cas said he could bring us here."

"You could remove them from a plane while cursed but you couldn't get 'em out of hell?" Bobby said.

"No." The angel replied. "The curse transported us to hell because Dean feared being a soul in hell. Souls in hell do not leave hell. Dean's fear of flying made us into flight attendants. Flight attendants leave airplanes often. Besides, it is beyond my normal power currently to ascend and descend into hell. Removing us from an airplane is easy."

Bobby shook his head. He grabbed the bottles out of Sam's hand put them in the kitchen. He walked over to Dean. The boy had his head between his knees and was taking in and out deep gulps of air.

"Solid ground, Dean." Bobby stomped his foot to show it. "You're really that afraid of airplanes, boy?"

Dean turned up enough to glare at him. "Look. I've been on exactly two flights before today and both of them almost crashed. Flying's stupid." He turned back down and kept with his breathing exercises.

"I take it this means you've rethunk your second thoughts on gettin' the damn things off."

Dean didn't look up. "Yeah." He muttered.

***

The boys wanted to keep the bands after they were off. Bobby told them they were idiots and the angel agreed.

Actually, Castiel had said, "We should do something more prudent than put them in the trunk of your car, Dean." But Bobby translated that from angel ease into 'No way in hell are you two idjits keeping them'.

Bobby waited until Sam and Dean drove off and Castiel disappeared to god knows where. He put the Sumerian bracelets in a magic box and hid it under the middle cushion of the couch, beside another curse box containing a broken horseshoe. There they'd be safe. He looked down at his legs again and grabbed one of the little liquor bottles he'd conviscated from Sam. He rose it up in a toast.

"Best curse ever." He said to whoever was listening. And then he added "Thanks." Because tonight no one was dead nor stuck in hell, and he could walk across the room to make his dinner.

THE END


End file.
